Cold
by Alexandra P. Useless
Summary: [complete]Sands is cold. [PostMovie]
1. Chapter 1

**This story has been floating around in my mind for about two weeks now. I'm not claiming it's gold, because it's not. It's just something I forced myself into. Please go easy on me: This is my first OUATiM fic. This is also my first time in this type of format. It won't be this poetry kind of format the entir fic, but for a good portion of it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters contained in this story. I'm not making any money off this story.**

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…………………

"I set them up and I watch them fall."

…………………

Sands is cold.

From the inside.

A deep and ominous cold.

And it is his.

It dwells in his chest, rippling and glinting.

It glares out from his dark eyes, devoid of emotion.

And with his glaring eyes and his frozen heart, he _is _in control.

He has the power.

He keeps the balance.

_………………….._

_"You really didn't see it coming, did you?"_

_…………………._

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**Well that's the first one. I'll be posting the next five chapters in good time. Please be gentle, maybe leave a comment in the end, huh? **


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second chapter. I'm a little more sane than I was last night... This morning... Em... Anyway. I should probably take down the huge prologue to this story. It probably scared off the three people who actually took the time to look. **

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…………………..

"You really didn't see it coming, did you?"

………………….

Sands is cold.

From the inside.

A creeping and tingling cold.

And it is _hers._

It stabs into his chest, betraying his frozen heart.

And he is ultimately afraid.

And _they_ are in control.

And _they_ have the power.

And _they _keep the balance.

_………………_

_"See anything you like?"_

_"No"_

_………………

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_

**Next chapter coming up. Possibly tomorrow. Go me! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter three. -I have all of them created, I just have to post them. To answer a question (from one of the four kind reviewers to this fic), most of this fic _is_ in poetry format, with two scenes written in story format. If this story gets a good enough response and readers are in favor, I'll turn the 'poems' into all one chapter, and slide a real story in there some where. **

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………………..

"See anything you like?"

"No"

………………...

Sands is cold.

From the inside.

A hellish, burning cold.

And it is it's _own_ creation.

And it consumes him.

And he pulls the trigger.

And he has the power.

And he keeps the balance.

And he has no control at all.

_………………_

_"Will you be okay?"_

_"… I don't know."_

_………………_

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**The little swell of support I've recieved for this fic has been wonderful! I'll be updating most likely tomorrow. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four up and going! **

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……………….

"Will you be okay?"

"… I don't know."

……………….

Sands is cold.

From the outside.

A sickly, numbing cold.

And it belongs to no one at all.

It glints upon his cheeks, stains his clothing, mats his hair.

And with his bleeding pride an nothing more, he has no control.

He has no power.

And his world is cruelly warped.

……………….

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**Another thanks for the support I've gotten for this fic! The next one's up tomorrow morning!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well _here's _a change of pace, today. **_

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And with his bleeding pride an nothing more, he has no control._

_He has no power._

_And his world is cruelly warped._

……………….

_Clink-drag. Clink-drag. Clink-drag. _

El Mariachi stares thoughtfully at agent Sands.

Bloodied, sweat matted and exhausted, he is resting his thin frame against a crumbling wall. Broken though he may appear, the air surrounding the agent seems thick with a roguish taint.

Cautiously, El approaches, wary of the slightest hint of hostility in the ailing man.

Upon closer inspection, El is able to discard the legend; Sands is exhausted. Chest heaving, limbs trembling, perspiration gleaming on his brow – he's barely standing. El ventures a greeting.

"Hey cowboy."

Sands lifts his chin from his chest, appearing to appraise him from behind those ominous dark glasses , now resting in a flow of crimson.

"_El_. And here I was thinking-" Sands licks his lips, struggling to keep his patronizingly upbeat tone. "-Thinking you'd deserted on me."

"I did." El searches for a gun in the immediate premises before advancing. He pushes past rigid boundaries and enters the taboo, taking the agent's chin in one hand and tilting his face skyward to investigate the mysterious blood flow. Sands is unresponsive, a sure sign of his fatigue. The mariachi carefully removes the sunglasses. He flinches, staring at the glistening karma as it trickles from the glaring sockets. Mariachi slides the glasses back to their original position as Sands begins to slip to the ground. He bends and hoists Sands to his feet, supporting his weight with one arm around the slim waist.

"You lost."

"…Fuck you."

………….

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**Well there's the firststory format chapter. Hope you guys liked this okay. **


	6. Chapter 6

**'nother chapter, yep. **

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"You lost." 

"…Fuck you."

………….

Sands struggles to keep his consciousness close, pushes himself to match El Mariachi's stride. Confusion prickles at the pack of his mind. Fear and hurt and humiliation have left their fingerprints in his features. He's been abandoned, betraye, tortured, and deamed unworthy of death. He's placed his life in the hands of a wiry little bubblegum boy, and he's being rescued by his own pawn.

"Don't pity me…" All traces of the original feigned cheeriness have vanished.

El's tired voice offers no emotion, only states fact. "I don't."

…………….

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**To adress a review (they've all been lovely) I'm not planning onf going far with this plot. If the story gets an alright response, I may take this and the last chapter and make a new fic just for them and that plot. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, her eit is. Last chapter. Thanks for all the support!**

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……………

"Don't pity me…"

"I don't."

…………….

Sands is cold.

Inside and out.

Growing and writhing from his chest.

And despite El's attempts, he's only getting colder.

Irony has crippled him left him lonely.

Karma has given him up for lost.

-And his power is gone.

-And his control has vanished

-And the balance never existed.

And bitterly, Sands smiles at this.

And for once, after so very long, Sands feels nothing at all.

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**Well that's it. The end. All done. -Will I make a companion fic to this? Most likely. Will it be angsty and short lived? Probably. **

**Thanks again for everything!**


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